


The one in which Tony Stark really wants to recruit Peter Parker

by Cygni



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Avengers Family, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Does What He Wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-03 01:34:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17274605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cygni/pseuds/Cygni
Summary: After taking a dip in public opinion, the Avengers and Stark Industries start a scholarship program to help brilliant kids reach their full potential. Reviewing the applications, Tony comes across Peter Parker, a fifteen-year-old with great ideas. Everybody knows Tony Stark doesn't really like kids, but Peter Parker is just too interesting to forget about him.





	The one in which Tony Stark really wants to recruit Peter Parker

Launching the Avengers Academic Scholarship, that had been Pepper’s solution to their latest dip in public opinion. Apparently, the public didn’t feel like the Avengers were doing anything important for the common people, ridiculously enough. The Scholarship would be good publicity, both for the Avengers and for Stark Industries as their main benefactor, and it would make a lot of people happy, that went without a doubt. Tony’s problem was that he had to be directly involved in it. Oh, all the senior Avengers (minus Thor, he was off-world again) were going to have to do their part, it was their penance for bringing extra problems to Pepper’s door, but Tony had to be, as she had put it, “a 100% involved in everything”. And “everything” was a lot, especially when Tony didn’t really like kids that much. Harley was ok and Clint’s kids were acceptable, but the rest of the horde were scary as hell.

The plan was simple: from all the kids in the country that applied for the Scholarship, the Avengers were going to pick two from every school year (“and it’s going to be gender balanced, Tony, and backed by a committee, we don’t want parents suing when their kids aren’t chosen”) to get their schooling fully funded until they graduated from college. A sweet deal, if Tony could say so, that was going to go on for the foreseeable future with every new batch of kids that entered the system. The press went crazy when they announced it, and reporters, desperate to get new details, kept buzzing around them like drunk bees. It hadn’t started yet, and Tony could already feel the forever headache that the thing was going to give him.

* * *

After the application period ended, an external committee had reviewed everything and created a longlist with all the eligible kids (“why aren’t my kids on that list?” “Clint, your kids count as employee family members and, also, I’m kind of already paying for their schooling?” “Oh. Ok then”).And the list was huge. Ginormous. Tony felt like crying when it was forwarded to him.

“How are we supposed to choose, Pepper? There are so many— I can’t meet with so many kids! They will give me chickenpox. Did you know that I’ve never had it? Oh my God, look at this! This one wrote in her application that she wants to cure cancer, how can I say no to the cure of cancer?”

What they did was have FRIDAY review the files. The committee had designed a rating system based on various meters (“blah, blah, blah. Nobody is interested, lady, just input them on the computer and let FRIDAY sort through it”) and it selected six kids from every grade, three boys and three girls. They didn’t necessarily have the best academic records, but they were the ones that deserved the scholarship the most, based on the selection algorithm (“fully available online, Pepper, for anyone that’s interested and has the computer power to run it, of course”).

“Ok, I can work with this,” Tony declared once he got the significantly shorter list. “FRIDAY, forward it to the others and tell them to choose their favorites. Let’s schedule a strategy meeting for… next Thursday?”

“On it, Boss.”

And so it went. Each of them reviewed the list and, on Thursday, bright and early, they gathered around the official Avengers’ meeting table on Tony’s penthouse. FRIDAY projected on the wall a picture grid with al the kids’ faces, and Bruce and Pepper distributed coffees all around.

“I can’t do this,” Steve looked like he hadn’t slept at all since the moment he got the list. “All of them deserve it in their own way! How can I decide between Therese from Salina, Utah,” the picture of a smiling girl in pigtails popped from the grid, “and Charlotte from Omaha, Nebraska?” Steve waved at the wall to make his point when, next to the first picture, another girl’s smiling face also increased in size. “And don’t let me get started with the six year-olds!” The girls’ pictures went back into the grid, and six from the first row came to the front. Steve hid his face behind his hands. “They are all adorable!”

Natasha patted his back. “There, there, grandpa. We’ll find a solution.”

Clint took a messy, wrinkled paper out of his pocket and used both hands to flatten it against the table. “I made a list of my favorites.” He made a show out of checking it. “Fourteen-year-old Charlotte from Omaha, Nebraska is in it.”

“Let me see that.” Bruce angled his body towards Clint to be able to read the paper. “You picked all the ones that are into sports, didn’t you?”

Shrugging, Clint answered, “at this point, it’s as good reason as any to choose between them.”

Pepper sighed and Tony frowned unhappily. “We are not using sport achievements to make the final decision, and that’s final” he tapped his phone to push his selection to the projection. “If anything, it should be science grades what weighted more, given that most of the scholarship will come from Stark Industries and we are an engineering company.”

Natasha also checked Clint’s list. “Wasn’t William from Austin, Texas, the only foster kid on the shortlist?”

“Yes. And he’s not in any team, so technically, I had two criteria” Clint smiled cheekily.

Tony sighed and conceded, “ok, Robin Hood, point made.” He waved his hand and the screen reverted to show the whole picture grid. “So, any other suggestion, team?”

Bruce took a sip from his coffee before proposing, “how about everyone gives their selections to FRIDAY and she orders the candidates by number of votes?” He put his hand up to stop Steve from crying in despair. “If you can’t make a decision, just wait to see how the list looks like once we have everyone else’s votes and we’ll proceed from there.”

Pepper nodded. “Sounds good to me. Let’s try”

They all got into it, except for Clint and Steve, who was just tiredly staring at the pictures on the wall. Clint took a look around, tapped on the table, empty in front of him except for the wrinkled paper and the coffee mug, and turned to Steve. “Hey,” he whispered, loud enough to be heard by everyone, “if you are not going to use your tablet, can I have it? Mine had kind of an ugly demise yesterday,” he said, his voice sounding kind of remorseful.

Tony groaned in disbelief. “Not again, Clint!” He cried. “I gave you a new one just last Monday!”

Blushing, Clint shrugged apologetic. “Sorry, man. Russians in tracksuits driving a steamroller, it’s a crazy story. The odds weren’t good for the tablet, but it died a hero.”

“My God, Clint, you are a mess.” Tony stood up and left the room. He came back a couple of minutes later, carrying a shiny new tablet. “See that this one survives more than a week, please,” Clint hugged it against his chest and nodded, smiling brightly.

“Ok, now that that’s solved,” Tony went back to his chair, “everyone, choose your champions and… let the Hunger Games begin!”

Reaching consensus didn’t take them as long as they feared. In the end, they only had to discuss about a couple of candidates (“Hannah is clearly the best choice for the ten-year-olds, Bruce, she plays the flute, is in the gymnastics team, and look at her paintings!” Natasha waved her tablet at Bruce. “Well, yes, but Hillary here has won the school’s science fair for three consecutive years!” “And Hannah has all the markings of a truly amazing artist, what’s your point?”). For the rest, they all pretty much could agree on a kid, no argument needed.

“So” Pepper looked around, smiling, “are we all happy with the selection?” She stoped Tony before he could open his mouth, “I’m sorry Peter from New York, New York didn’t pass, but majority spoke.”

“Ok, fine, whatever,” Tony grunted. “We’re done. FRIDAY, send our choices to the committee for the final review.” He stood up and stretched his arms with a loud groan. “Who’s up for dinner and a movie? Let’s call the others and order some shawarma.”

* * *

Days later, Tony still hadn’t forgotten about Peter from New York, New York. He got why the others wanted that other kid, What’s-his-name from Deep-in-the-woods, Nowhere, but Peter’s application really spoke to him. That was a kid who he could relate to. He had included a portfolio with some neat blueprints and projects, a couple of them ideas that, with a bit of work, could be manufactured into something marketable. That kid had a future in engineering, no question about it, and Tony was going to make sure he’ll get him working for Stark Industries sooner rather than later. He found him first, and no other company was allowed to steal him. Giving him the Avengers Scholarship could had been a great recruiting option, but he would find another way. After all, the kid lived in New York, he’ll arrange something to make it happen, no problem.

“FRIDAY, six months from now, let’s see what we can do about him.”

“Ok, Boss, I’ll set the reminder.”

* * *

The Scholarship’s final resolution went out two weeks later. The winners were invited to an award ceremony at the Tower, all expenses covered for them and up to ten family members (“Dylan from Winchester, Ohio has seven siblings, Pepper, we can’t discriminate against big families!”). Everyone that was someone in Education would be attending; all the chosen, semi-relevant politicians, including the President, had RSVP’d; the PR people had made a list of journalists that could behave around children; and all the Avengers had put on their best attires (“Vision, please, without the cape. That tunic is already kinda too much”). Everything was set for it to be an epic evening —and that’s how the press reported it: “the most epic evening a kid could ever dream”.

After that, life just went on in the usual Avengers’ fashion: a couple crazies with ray guns, Hydra playing whack-a-mole around the globe, Thor breaking stuff… Just normal things until, way before that reminder Tony had set with FRIDAY was triggered, Peter from New York, New York, was brought back to his attention in the most unexpected way.

“A guy that sticks to walls and stops petty theft? Wearing a jumpsuit? You sure this is not like the Roxxon ad again, Cap? Remember, mermaids aren’t a thing, not even now,” Tony singsonged laughing. 

“Ha ha, very funny,” Steve grumbled, his face reddening. “This guy it’s all over the Twitter and, also, Fernando from the coffee shop told me that a friend of his mother’s cousin (once removed) got his purse back thanks to him.”

“It’s just ‘Twitter’, Steve,” Tony corrected automatically, “and, could you find a source that sounded even more unreliable?” Steve shrugged, unapologetic.

And that was that, right until the guy was caught on camera stoping an armed robbery in a convenience store.

“Told you so!” Steve cried triumphantly.

“Yes, yes, whatever. Now, what do we do about him?”

An Avengers strategy meeting was held and, of course, nothing got decided (“we know nothing about him! What if he turns out to be a gang enforcer cleaning out the territory?” “You shouldn’t watch Dog Cops anymore, Clint.” “Aww, Tasha, you know that Dog Cops is Lila’s favorite!”), just that they would keep an eye on the masked guy. FRIDAY started gathering up all the information available —Internet videos, news reports, some traffic cameras’ footage, the security tapes of a couple of stores— and compiled a dossier.

“If the guy continues making appearances at this pace, I think we’ll be able to find out who he is by the end of the month,” commented Tony a couple of days later, rubbing his hands in glee while he reviewed a video of the masked guy’s latests intervention.

Natasha took a look at the screen playing the footage. It had clearly been recorded with a cell phone, but the masked guy had done his stuff just under a streetlight, so the image quality was acceptable, if a bit shaky. “I agree,” she said. “He keeps himself restricted to the Queens area, only deals with small time crooks, and only appears at night. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Bruce came in holding a coffee on one hand and the latest Daily Bugle on the other. “Apparently, they have started calling him _Spider-Man_ now,” he said leaving the newspaper on the table, “and this article here considers him a menace, but I’m not sure why.”

On the screen, the guy did a backflip to dodge a punch, held himself upside-down on one hand, and then folded his body in half to launch himself forward and hit the would-be-robber feet first.

“Do you think he was with the circus? Man, those moves are awesome,” Clint commented, smiling wistfully. “I used to be able to bend like that back when I was—” frowning, he got closer to the screen. “Hey, does anyone else think he’s too small and scrawny to be called Spider- _Man_?”

And that was how the Avengers took to call the masked vigilante _Spider-Kid_ and redoubled their efforts to find him. They weren’t going to leave a kid fight alone “and in a jumpsuit! What kind of moron doesn’t at least wear some kind of armor when jumping from buildings? FRIDAY, open a new file. I’m going to design a suit for the kid, starting with a parachute.”

* * *

In the meantime, the first batch of winners of the Avengers Scholarship had started school. The program was a success from every point of view: kids were happy, families were happy, schools were happy, and, the most important thing, public opinion was again favorable to the Avengers. Just what they had wanted. Unfortunately, it also meant paperwork, more interviews, and, weirdly enough, to deal with some channel’s proposal to make a reality show about them. As if their lives weren’t public enough! “We are not the Kardashians, full stop.”

And then, less than a month later, just like Tony predicted, they found Spider-Kid’s identity.

“I present to you, Peter Parker!” Tony waved his arms towards the screen, where a picture they all recognized was projected, front and center.

“Tony, isn’t that Peter from New York, New York?” Bruce readjusted his glasses and took a second look. Tony nodded excited. “Yes. Fifteen-year-old Peter from New York, New York’s hobbies apparently got updated since we reviewed his application.”

They all looked incredulous to the picture. “Wait,” Pepper put a hand up, “that kid was barely passing PE, are you telling me that he is suddenly an Olympic level gymnast?”

Tony shrugged. “Don’t know how that happened, but I’m sure it’s him.” He called some footage to the screen and it started playing automatically. “FRIDAY reported that Spider-Kid was last caught on camera around the same place, nearly every night, so I sent a drone to catch him and—” He pointed to the video, where Spider-Man, after climbing up a building’s facade, slipping through a window, and turning on the room’s lights, was taking off his mask, leaving his face fully visible. “Surprise!”

“Aww, kid—” Clint facepalmed.

“So amateur.” Natasha despaired.

“What are we going to do about this?” Steve’s serious, Captain America’s face made an appearance, “we cannot let a fifteen-year-old kid swing all around Queens without backup!”

They were all on the same page about that. No way they were going to leave a kid without any formal training (“hey, Natasha how do you know he’s not been trained?” “Oh, please, are you kidding? He moves like someone that doesn’t even know how long their arms are!”) spend his nights fighting crime, all by himself. Trying to convince him to stop would probably be futile, so they wouldn’t even try. What they were going to do was to give him the tools to survive in his new line of work. The problem was that, to do so, they had to get close to him without raising any suspicion about his identity.

“He’s brilliant, I could offer him an internship,” proposed Tony, celebrating his luck. “It would be a good excuse for him to spend time at the Tower and we could also discuss some of those designs he sent with his application for the Scholarship. Couple of them were genius. Not my level of genius, of course—”

“There’s no precedent for that, Tony,” pointed Pepper, interrupting his rant. “All our interns are college level, we don’t even have a high school program!”

“So let’s start one and get Peter into it!” Tony was on a roll, a huge smile on his face and excitedly moving around the room. “What’s the benefit of being engaged to the CEO of the company if I can’t even choose my own intern?”

“Tony, you’ve never wanted an intern,” exasperation tinted Pepper’s tone.

“Well, so what?” He shrugged and kissed her on the cheek, “there’s a first time for everything.”

* * *

In the end, Tony got what Tony wanted. Legal got payed overtime to draft an internship contract designed for a minor and, by next afternoon, Stark Industries was ready for Peter Parker. Take that, every-other-company-that-could-have-gotten-him-first! They put together a package (“tote bags, Pepper? Since when do we make tote bags with my name?”) with the contract and some information leaflets about the company, and sent Tony to talk to him and his legal guardian (“he’s going to overwhelm them, isn’t he?” Asked Pepper waving him goodbye with a fake smile on her face. “I don’t have any doubt”, replied Natasha laughing).

* * *

While he waited for the Parker’s door to open, Tony made a show about fixing his tie. He was wearing one of his business-casual suits paired with a gaudy Iron Man tie and a pair of red chucks. Pepper had rolled her eyes when she saw him, so he considered himself perfectly attired for the occasion.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” Tony turned around to find himself looking directly at May Parker. She was hugging a couple of grocery bags to her chest and staring at him with a very confused look on her face. “Hi! Yes, I believe so. Mrs. Parker?” May nodded. “Let me help you with that. I’m Tony Stark.”

May gave him one of the brown paper bags at his insistence and pulled the keys out of her jeans’ pocket. “I know who you are, Mr. Stark—” “Please, call me Tony.” “What I’m not sure about is why you are here.” Holding the door open, she studied him, “I guess you’d like to come in?” She finally asked, sounding confused. Tony smiled and walked inside.

May guided him to the kitchen and, feeling a bit like Little Miss Manners, she offered to make some coffee. Tony smiled, “sure, coffee sounds good,” and left the paper bag on the counter. May turned on the coffee maker and started putting away groceries while it brewed. “Excuse my bluntness, but why are you here? It’s not like we get celebrity visits every day.”

Tony took a seat on one of the breakfast bar stools and took the information packet out of his briefcase. “I’m here to talk about Peter,” May turned around. “Based on the application and portfolio he submitted for the Avengers Scholarship, I want to offer him an internship at Stark Industries, working directly under myself.” An orange slipped out of May’s hands.

“But—” she looked at the tote bag with the Stark Industries logo that Tony was holding. “But he didn’t get the scholarship!”

“No, he didn’t, “Tony shrugged, like it wasn’t that important, “but I reviewed his work, and I liked it very, very much. Your nephew has a great mind, Mrs. Parker—” “Please, call me May,” she took the fabric bag from him, looking stunned. “Ok, May it is. As I was saying, your nephew has a great mind, and I would like to see him reach his full potential. I’m curious about what he’ll be able to do with some specialized training.”

“I… I don’t even know what to say—” she stood there, just looking at the bag, for a moment. “Peter should be back in about half an hour, why don’t we wait for him in the living room? Here, help me with the mugs, I’ll bring the coffee.”

They sat on the couch and, still recovering from the shock, May poured the drinks. Tony started explaining how he wanted the internship to work, clarifying that they would schedule everything around Peter’s life. It was all half truths, half bullshit, given that some of the time was going to be Spider-Man training, but she wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

“And, it goes without saying, Peter’s grades will be our first priority,” May nodded, pleased. “If he starts to struggle, we would have to have another talk to readjust all of this—” The sound of the front door opening and closing interrupted him, and both Tony and May turned to look over the back of the couch.

“May,” Peter called entering the room, “I’m ho—” he chocked on his words when he saw them. “Oh my God! Is that Tony Stark?” Peter’s eyes couldn’t seem to leave Tony’s face.

May started laughing and signaled for him to come closer. She directed him to the coffee table, where the internship contract and the other documents were spread out. “Come on, look at these,” she said smiling broadly. “It looks like you are going to get something back from all that time you spent working on the application for the Avengers Scholarship!”

Peter dropped his bag to the floor. Eyes wide, he rounded the couch on her aunt’s side and sat on the floor to look at the papers. “This can’t be right,” he mumbled, flipping through the contract, “Stark Industries only accepts college students.”

“You’d be our first high school intern,” cut Tony with his best salesman smile, arms open theatrically, “how does that sound?”

Tightly holding the contract with both hands, Peter lifted his eyes to look at him. “Is this for real? Not a prank or a joke or—”

“Kid, you are not that important.”

May huffed, amused, but clearly disagreeing with him, and leaned forward, arms crossed over her knees. “So,” she smiled encouragingly, “are you going to accept? I already looked through it and it looks like a good deal.”

Tony put a hand to his chest, mock offended. “Of course it’s a good deal! I’m Tony Stark, I only make good deals.” He looked forlornly to his empty cup, then at May. “And right now, I would sell my soul for a new cup of coffee.”

Laughing, she got up. She ruffled Peter’s hair, a proud smile on her face, before picking up the empty pot and going to the kitchen. Tony waited for a moment, just until he heard the water running, before reaching into his pocket to take out his phone. He unblocked it and, under Peter’s confused gaze, he scrolled through it for a moment. “Here,” he said turning the phone so Peter could see the screen. Peter stared at it for a fraction of a second before, with a deer-in-headlights look, he lifted his head so fast that Tony grimaced thinking about his own neck. “Careful, kid, don’t hurt yourself.”

“How—” Peter mumbled, pale as a sheet.

“Well, I’m Tony Stark and I live in a tower full of superheroes,” he shrugged and took another look at the picture on the screen. It was an enlarged still frame from the video he had shown the Avengers a couple of days before. On it, through an opened window, you could see Peter’s face, partially covered by Spider-Man’s red sky mask, while he pulled off the thing with his right hand.

Chuckling, Tony took one last look at it. “Don’t worry, Peter, nobody—”

He shut up when May’s voice called from the kitchen, “does anyone want some cookies with that coffee?”

Tony smiled and put the phone back in his pocket. “Sure!”

Peter didn’t say anything, just continued staring at Tony with a panicked face.

“Kid, relax,” Tony whispered, “your secret’s safe, I swear.”

May came back holding a tray with a cookie plate, the coffee pot and an extra mug for Peter. She put everything on the table, careful with the papers.

“So, are you taking the internship, Peter?”

“I—” Peter looked very small and very young, completely out of his comfort zone, and Tony felt a little, tiny, insignificant, amount of guilt for having dropped the news on him like that.

“I’m afraid I might have scared him a bit talking about work,” Tony laughed and took the coffee that was offered to him, “but I’m sure he’ll do great. He certainly has the right capacities to join us at the Tower.”

“Well, that’s good to hear” May turned to Peter, holding a cup filled with milk and just a drop of coffee for him. “What do you say, Peter? Are you going to take it?”

Peter looked at the drink in his hands. It was clear to Tony that he didn’t know what to do and he wished they could continue the Spider-Man conversation, but from the look of things, he had been right that the aunt didn’t know anything about it. “Why don’t you come to the Tower tomorrow after school and take a look before making a decision?” Tony suggested. “I can have my driver pick you up.”

“That’s a great idea,” May smiled encouragingly, “don’t you think, Pete?”

Peter gave him a heavy look and nodded slowly. “Ok, sounds good.”

“Great!” Tony smiled really big and finished his coffee in one big last gulp. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow and we’ll tour the labs and I’ll show you everything around the Tower!” He put the mug back on the tray and got up. “Now, I have to go. Places to be, things to do—”

May and Peter got up too and followed him to the door.

“It was nice to meet you, Tony,” said May shaking his hand.

“You too. And we’ll hopefully see each other again, if we can convince Peter here to take the internship,” he extended his hand towards the boy.

Peter looked at him in the eyes, before lowering his gaze to the hand and, finally, shaking it. “Ok,” Peter gave him a small, polite smile, “ok, see you tomorrow, Mr. Stark.”

“That’s the spirit, kid!”

Peter didn’t take his eyes off him until the elevator doors closed.

“That was—” May started.

“Yes.”

The two of them looked to each other and laughed nervously.

“Put on your coat, Pete.” May said“After all this, I think we deserve a dinner out.”

* * *

“Ned, I told you, today I cannot,” Peter closed his locker and started walking towards the school’s doors. Last night, he hadn’t been able to sleep at all, and today the tiredness, combined with the anxiety he felt about Tony Stark knowing his secret, were coming out in bouts of short temper.

Ned hurried after him, putting on his backpack as he hastened to keep up. “But—”

“I know I said I’d come by today, but something came up and I cannot, sorry.”

They made it out to the building. Peter checked his phone for the hundredth time that day, but it had no new messages or missed calls. He was sure Mr. Stark had his number, after all, it was included in the application he sent for the Avengers Scholarship, and he had thought he would have gotten a message with some details about what was going to happen today. That vague “come to the Tower after school, my driver will pick you up” wasn’t very informative.

“How about tomorrow?” Ned asked, sounding bitter, “I cannot put that computer together alone, Peter, and you told me weeks ago you’d help me!”

Peter felt guilty for ditching Ned again. Since becoming Spider-Man, his free time had decreased so much that he couldn’t keep up with everything in his life. He had to maintain appearances with his aunt and the school to be able to secretly fight crime without getting into trouble, so he ended up cancelling his plans with Ned more often than not. The problem was that, although he was running out of convincing excuses, telling his friend the truth wasn’t an option. Being Spider-Man was dangerous and knowing too much could put Ned into risk. The less he knew, the better.

Hoping not to make a liar of himself —again— Peter nodded to Ned and said, “sure, man. Tomorrow we’ll work on your thing, I promise,” while on the inside he prayed that nothing more important came up. He hated breaking his promises, but right now, especially after Tony Stark’s impromptu visit, Ned’s project wasn’t a priority.

Giving him a disappointed look, Ned adjusted the straps of his bag and muttered a sad, “ok, Pete. See you tomorrow, then,” before turning and dejectedly walking towards the street.

Closing his eyes, Peter took a deep breath and tried to center himself. He felt bad about Ned, but he had more important things to solve today. He didn’t know what was going to happen at the Tower, he didn’t even know how he was going to get there, and the uncertainty was killing him.

On his way out of the school boundaries, he took a walk around the parking lot, obsessively checking over all the cars, but none fit what he expected for something owned by Tony Stark. Maybe they wouldn’t pick him up at the school? He took his phone out again; no new notifications. What was he supposed to do? Given that Mr. Stark clearly knew where he lived, he decided to go home and wait there for new instructions. Maybe someone would be there waiting for him? Annoyed, he wished he had thought to ask for details, but he had been so shocked by that blasted picture, that his brain had stopped working.

After giving one last quick glance to his surroundings, he finally decided to leave the school. He turned right on the sidewalk, dodging hurrying pedestrians, and walked towards his apartment. Just before reaching the first intersection, he was hit with the acute, definite sensation that he was being followed. It was like an itch to the back of his skull, continuous and irritating, a physical manifestation of the impression of feeling observed. He waited until the light turned green, restraining his need to fidget and look around. “Act normal, act normal, act normal” kept circling his head as a mantra. Surrounded by people, he crossed the road with that pressing sensation drilling into his skull. Next alley, he was going to have to get out of the main road and deal with whatever it was. Hopefully, it would be just a common thief, misjudging him as an easy mark. He would have to take a couple of hits if he wanted the situation to look believable, but it wouldn’t be too difficult to reduce him. Worst case scenario, he would have to hit whoever it was hard enough that he would’t remember that a scrawny high-school-kid could easily overpower him.

Fortunately, it didn’t get to that.

“Mr. Parker?” Peter stopped just before taking a left and getting into a narrow alley. He turned around and easily spotted the guy with dark shades that was making his senses tingle. “Mr. Parker,” repeated the guy getting closer, people sidestepping him, “my name is Happy Hogan, I work for Mr. Stark.”

Oh. Ok. So they were going to stop him in the middle of the street instead of setting a meeting place, very trustworthy. “Were you following me?” asked Peter annoyed.

The guy nodded and showed him the screen of his phone. Peter took a step forward to get a closer look of a slightly blurry picture of himself walking down the street, ten yards back from where they were currently standing. The text “positive identification” blinked on top of it, and Peter suddenly felt like he was in one of those dystopian movies where the government watched over every step the main character took. Yesterday Tony Stark showed him a surveillance picture of his window and now this guy was taking pictures of him on the street. Horrified, he looked up and around, his eyes flicking all over the surrounding buildings, trying to find hidden cameras. “Oh my God, are you seriously spying on me? How—”

“Relax, kid. Mr. Stark sent me to pick you up, and I had to make sure I got the right person,” the guy put the phone back into his coat pocket. “Ready to go to the Tower? The car is parked just there,” he pointed to an undetermined place behind Peter, “and Mr. Stark is waiting for you.”

Still feeling observed, an uncomfortable sensation that made his stomach churn, Peter decided to be cautious. After all, if Mr. Stark had found out his secret identity, who knew if someone else might have also discovered it? This guy could be a super-villain! “May I see an ID?” Peter demanded, a defiant look in his eyes, “and I want to take a picture of you, the car, and its registration number, to send to my aunt,” he took out his own phone and pointed it to the man’s scowling face.

Happy took off his dark glasses and, giving him a long-suffering look, he nodded, “sure, kid, whatever you want. Security first,” and fished his wallet out of his rear pocket.

Peter took the picture, but just saved it into his phone. He only wanted to see if the guy was going to let him do it. The last thing he needed if something bad were to happen, was to bring danger on May’s way.

“Oh, wow, your name is actually Happy,” he muttered checking the driver’s license that was held a couple of inches from his face. “That’s cool”. Happy took it back, grunting something about not being a babysitter, before he started walking towards where, Peter presumed, the car was parked.

* * *

The ride to the Tower would have been shorter, if not for the heavy traffic. Happy made him sit in the backseat, which had to be the most comfortable place on Earth. Sadly, Peter couldn’t make himself enjoy it like it deserved. His nerves were killing him, and his feet moved on their own will while he couldn’t stop compulsively touching everything around. And there was so much to touch… It was the most awesome car he had ever been inside, everything covered in soft leather, the perfect temperature all around, and the million buttons to explore. The third time he took the privacy screen down, Happy growled a “be still, kid, for God’s sake!” that made Peter decide to put his hands under his butt to stop their wandering.

It didn’t take much longer before the car rolled into an underground garage directly under Avengers Tower. Peter pressed his face to the window like a tourist when Tony Stark’s classic car collection came into view. “Have you driven all those, Mr. Hogan?” He asked amazed. “There are so many… it’s crazy.”

“I wish, kid, I wish,” laughed Happy, parking between two BMWs. “Come on, we’re already late.” Peter’s heart started beating double time. How could he be late if he never got an appointment time?

They walked into an elevator, spacious, shiny and modern looking. To Peter, the situation felt totally unreal. He was inside Avengers Tower, on his way to meet with Tony Stark for the second time in less than 24 hours. The image of the millionaire sitting in his living room, holding evidence of Peter’s secret identity, popped into his mind, unleashing the anxious reactions he had been trying to hold back. Oh, God, Tony Stark knew about Spider-Man. Iron Man knew about Spider-Man! His heart started beating like crazy, adrenaline flooding his body, putting all his muscles into high alert. He felt cold sweat running down his back, his breathing got shorter and faster, and dark spots clouded his vision.

“Mr. Parker,” feeling dizzy, Peter lifted his head, startled by the new voice, “do you require medical attention?” Happy tuned to look at him, a worried frown in his face.

“What? Who?” Peter scanned the entire elevator, but he couldn’t even locate speakers. Slowly, he moved until he was standing with a wall to his back, hands flat against it, ready to climb to the ceiling and escape through the elevator shaft like in the movies.

“Calm down, kid,” Happy moved his hands in a placating manner. “It’s just FRIDAY, she’s an AI,” he looked up, “and she knows that she’s not supposed to startle the guests,” he scolded.

Oh. Peter knew about FRIDAY. He had read an article about the AI that ran Avengers Tower in one of Ned’s programming journals, he just didn’t expect her to sound so… human. “I—” He took a step forward, red coloring his cheeks “Sorry,” he muttered, looking to the ceiling, too.

“No, Mr. Parker, I am the one that is sorry,” answered FRIDAY, sounding chastened. “I did not want to alarm you, but I detected anomalies on your heart and respiratory rates when you entered the elevator.”

Peter shook his head. “I’m ok, just feeling a bit nervous.” He smiled ruefully. “It’s not everyday you get invited to visit Avengers Tower, you know?”

FRIDAY stayed in silence for a moment. “No, I wouldn’t know, I’ve always been here. Posts on social networks, on the other hand, show great excitement about the possibility, so I think I understand.” Happy snorted.

Peter was still smiling to the ceiling when the elevator doors opened. “We reached the penthouse,” announced FRIDAY. “Boss is waiting for you in the kitchen.”

Peter stood there, frozen inside the elevator, looking into a luxurious living room. It was tastefully decorated in whites and grays, with windows from floor to ceiling showing the most awesome view of New York Peter had ever seen. Timidly peeking inside, he could feel his breath quickening again, his hands suddenly cold and clammy. Everything was just too much, too big, too open, too bright. Perceiving his anxiety and indecision, Happy put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a soft, encouraging push inside. Peter took one, two, three steps, until he had crossed the elevator boundaries and was standing in Tony Stark’s home.

“Good luck, kid,” he heard Happy’s voice behind him, together with the metallic hum of the elevator doors closing again.

Peter was alone.

Peter was scared.

“What’s taking you so long, Parker?” Tony Stark’s voice, sounding not very far away, startled him out of his daze, “the kitchen is just to your right!”

Peter started walking, following the voice. His fear was clearly visible on his face. He was going to have a talk with the only person in the world that knew his biggest secret and he was terrified. What could Iron Man want from him? Spider-Man was just a small player in New York, limited to the Queens area, and he wasn’t even that well known! The only newspaper that regularly talked about him was The Daily Bugle and they absolutely hated him! The whole situation was confusing and nerve-wrecking, specially since his aunt thought he had been offered the opportunity of a lifetime in the shape of an internship with his idol. If only. And that was the worst part: that the internship offer wasn’t real, that it was just a cover to be able to get close to him, to get close to Spider-Man. Peter clenched his fists, angry about the whole thing. He just wanted to do some good, why couldn’t he be left alone? By the time he reached the kitchen, his fear had transformed into righteous indignation, and he was ready to make himself be heard by Tony Stark.

But he didn’t get the chance. When he turned on the corner and the kitchen became visible, he felt all his rage leave him in just one blow. Tony Stark was sitting at the head of the kitchen table, nursing what Peter supposed was a cup of coffee, but he wasn’t alone. Pepper Potts sat on his right, slightly leaning into him, also holding a drink. On his left, Captain America himself was looking at Peter with a smile that could be a Time magazine front cover, and next to him, sat Bruce Banner.

Did they all know about him? For a second, Peter thought he would faint right there, in front of all those people. And then he would die out of shame, of course. But maybe first he would have time to ask them for an autograph? Aunt May would go crazy if Steve Rogers signed her any of her Captain America merchandising.

“Finally!” Tony made gestures, inviting him to the table. “You can put your backpack wherever,” he instructed waving so wildly that Pepper had to move a bit away from him. “Welcome to Avengers Tower, yada, yada. Take a seat. Do you want some coffee? Or not, I think coffee is bad for kids, I read it stunts their growing… is that true, Bruce? Hey, didn’t your aunt give you some coffee yesterday?” He pointed to Peter accusingly.

Pepper sighed at his antics and, looking to Peter, she smiled warmly at him. “Excuse Tony,” she said. “He’s really excited about your visit, if you couldn’t tell.”

Peter closed his mouth and opened it again, as if he was going to say something. Not a sound came out and his cheeks turned a deep red color. It was just too much, too incredible. Iron Man, Captain America, Hulk and Pepper Potts were sitting around a table, drinking coffee and waiting for him. How was that his life?

“Peter?” He fixated on Dr. Banner. “Are you ok?”

Peter nodded slowly. He got his backpack off and, holding it against his chest, he walked the few steps that separated him from the others.

“Why don’t you take a seat there, next to Pepper?” Bruce suggested, before he got up and went to the stovetop. “I’ll make you some tea.”

Smiling, Pepper used her foot to push the empty chair out from under the table. “Come on, we have a lot to talk about and not a lot of time.” She pointed at Tony, “this one wants to take you to see the labs afterwards and we wouldn’t want to send you home too late!”

Moving rigidly, uncomfortably aware of every inch of his body, Peter sat on the edge of the chair. He left his backpack on the floor, resting on the chair’s legs, straightened himself, and put his hands on the table, palms down. He felt stupid and knew he looked stupid, but he was unable to decide what to do with his hands or how to relax into the chair. He couldn’t remember having been this nervous ever before, the knot in his chest getting tighter and tighter with every breath he took.

“Kid,” Steve leaned forward, a concerned look in his face, “you look as if you were surrounded by enemies. Do you know why you’re here?”

Tony scoffed and turned towards him, hands up in the air. “Of course he knows! I explained everything to him yesterday, but he wanted to see the Tower before agreeing to be my _padawan_!”

Peter’s incredulous face told everybody else the truth. Bruce came back with a steaming cup of chamomile tea and pushed it to him, finally giving Peter something to do with his awkward hands.

“Tony, why don’t you tell us exactly what happened yesterday?” Bruce requested.

Tony groaned, “but I already did!” He breathed deeply and, seeing the pointed looks everyone was sending his way, he continued, “Ok, ok. So… after having a boring meeting with the shareholders, I helped Natasha and Clint with that secret spy thing they had today. Then I had lunch with lovely Pepper here, and after that, I went to his place,” he pointed to Peter. “I had a coffee with his aunt, who’s kinda hot —but that’s not relevant now,” he trailed off under Pepper’s gaze, “and then I told her about the internship,” Peter gripped the mug tighter, “and when he came back from school, I told him about the internship too. Then, his aunt went to the kitchen and I showed him the picture where he’s taking that ridiculous costume off,” Pepper covered her eyes with her hands, “and then I told him that Happy would pick him up after school today.” He smiled and gestured to Peter with both hands, “and here he is now!”

“Oh, Tony…” Pepper muttered. “Peter, I’m sorry we sent this one for first contact, but he insisted.” Tony looked indignant, and opened his mouth, ready to defend himself. Steve grabbed him by the shoulder and shook his head. “He was very excited about meeting you,” Pepper continued, smiling sweetly. “You know, yours was his favorite Scholarship application.”

“And I had plans to recruit you!” Tony pipped in. “That repulsor design on your portfolio is genius, I wasn’t going to let you work for another company!” Peter’s pale face lit up. Was that true? Tony Stark really liked his designs and wanted to work with him? Tony continued, “but the Spider-Man thing pushed my plan forward, I wasn’t going to let you fight crime dressed like that!” A life-sized hologram of Peter dressed as Spider-Man, taken in the middle of a jump, appeared floating a couple of inches from the table. Peter was so surprised that his butt slid to the back of the chair. Mouth open in awe, he stretched his hand until it passed through the image. “That’s amazing,” he said moving his hand in and out the picture. He lifted his head to the ceiling. “Where are the projectors?”

Tony leaned forward, ready to start explaining how the hologram worked, but Bruce was faster. “Tony, not now. After we are all on the same page, you can give him all the lessons you want, but first things first.”

Tony pouted and sat back again. “Spoilsport,” he muttered.

Steve snorted and, looking to Peter through the hologram, he said, “I’m going to be clear with you, Peter: we wanted you to come here today to offer you our support—” “And an internship! Don’t forget that!” Steve groaned, “our support on being Spider-Man. We know it’s not easy being a superhero and that no one takes on that responsibility without having thought it over, so we won’t insult you by asking if you are sure that this is what you want to do.”

Peter could’t believe his ears. Captain America thought that what he did was worth it, the Avengers believed in him! His head felt so light, he feared he was going to pass out. “You are underage, so you can’t be an official Avenger,” Steve continued, “but we can help you with training and we can be your backup if you encounter a situation where extra hands are needed.” Peter nodded, amazed about where the meeting was going.

“And we —you and I,” Tony pointed to Peter and himself, “are going to design and manufacture a suit for you. I refuse to see one more video of you jumping from buildings dressed like that,” he signaled to the hologram, looking offended by the costume Peter was wearing.

Peter was frozen in place. He didn’t know what to say or how to react. He had arrived to the Tower thinking he was going to get into trouble about his superhero alter-ego, but he had found just the opposite: the Avengers were going to help him do his Spider-Man thing! That was awesome in itself, but the best part was that Tony Stark, the best inventor of their era, and the person he admired the most, wanted to work with him. Apparently, discovering that he was Spider-Man had only sped-up their meeting, but he had had plans for him before knowing who he was. A dopey smiled appeared on his face, this was the coolest thing ever.

“I—” he choked on his words, “thank you, all of you! Oh my God, this is unbelievable, I cannot—”

“Yes, yes,” Tony interrupted. “Life is beautiful and you are blessed. How about I show you the labs before we have to send you home?” He stood up and went around Pepper to push him out of his chair. “I already have some ideas for your suit that we can start discussing,” Peter snatched his backpack before Tony could lead him too far from it, “and we have to talk about your schedule because your aunt would kill me if your grades suffered because of this—”

“Don’t forget he still has to sign the papers, Tony!,” Pepper shouted before they reached the elevator.

“Yes, that too. And Human Resources will have to make you an ID—”

Tony’s voice trailed off as the elevator doors closed behind them. Steve held his laughter for just a couple of seconds before he burst out into cackles. “Congratulation, Pepper,” he said jokingly, “it’s a boy.”


End file.
